My Rockstar's Secret Baby by Jamie Knight (read me like a book .TXT) 📕

“Right, sorry.”

“Not a problem.”

The wall of the elevator met me as I slumped back. Taking a deep breath, I tried to center myself, determined to somehow muddle through. There wasn’t much that needed to be done that day. The big project was our seasonal line, and I had that more or less sewn up.

I was mostly just waiting for Fawn to deliver the samples. Maddie knew better than to bother me unless it was really important, particularly when I had my grumpy face on, which I was dismayed to find out I did.

Should I not be happy?

I’d had a new experience, lunchtime quickies not really something that had occurred to me before. Not to mention what happened during it. It was all such a jumble. I suddenly had an idea of how Jonna must have felt, falling for her boss.

As though the gods of irony were listening a call came through, I somehow knew it was from Jonna.

“Hey, little one.”

“Hey, sis, working?”

“Hardly working, but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Always.”

A hand closed in my chest. She was taking my lines. Just one more indication of how much our roles had reversed. Her the stable, married mom, and me the jumbled alleged career woman obsessed with a metalhead five years my junior.

Still, if there was anyone who might understand, it was Jonna.

“I was wondering if you might like to meet us for dinner,” she said.

“Us, you mean you and Seth?”

“No, I wish that’s what I meant. He has to work tonight. It will be just the two of us, and Casey of course. He’s still on the boob and all.”

I chuckled. “I’d love to, where and when?”

“You choose, I’m no good at this stuff.”

“How about the Cedar Lounge?”

It must have been Opposite Day. That was the only way I could think of to explain how Jonna’s car was in the front lot of the Cedar Lounge as I arrived.

This girl would be late for her own funeral, yet somehow she had made it to dinner first. She must have sensed a disturbance in the balance of the universe as well.

“Hey, sis,” Jonna greeted, with a big hug.

“Hey.”

Casey giggled in his carrier, reaching his little arms out toward me. Much to my shame, I hadn’t really seen my nephew much since he was born. I came and went, but seemed to never have much time to spend with him.

“Do you want to hold him?” Jonna asked.

“Okay.”

Lifting Casey from the carrier, Jonna showed me how to hold him and support his head. Casey seemed happy with the situation, nuzzling his face into my chest.

“I think he likes you.”

“Looks like,” I agreed, looking down at the snoozing infant.

I’d never really considered having kids. It wasn’t that I was against it or had any silly ideas about it ‘ruining’ me. It just never really came. I had other things to focus on, like how to stay alive after graduation.

I could have gone to Mom and Dad for help, they hadn’t disowned me or anything, it just didn’t feel right. I was too self-sufficient, besides which, I still had Jonna to think about. I wasn’t that much older than her, but I had still always felt more like a mom than a sister.

It was only in the past few months, since she had really been flourishing so well with Seth, that I really started to feel like it would be okay to let go. She had her own life, and it was well past time I got one of my own!

“What’s up?” she asked me, making me realize I had been zoning out.

“Sorry, what?” I asked her.

“Sister-sense. I have it too, you know.”

“Right,” I chuckled, then sighed. “I’m just trying to decide about something.”

“Whether or not it’s a good idea to be with Ragnar in a serious way?” Jonna asked knowingly.

“Wow, good guess.”

“The benefit of experience.”

She had me there. Jonna had a lot more experience, at least in particular aspects of life. What used to look like mistakes, she reshaped into adventures and leaning opportunities.

If anyone would understand what was going on with Ragnar, it was her. Jonna could see it from both sides.

“We’re just so different,” I admitted to her.

“How so?” Jonna pressed.

“Well, we have different cultures.”

“Do you now, Olga? You think you have a radically different culture than Ragnar Karlssen?” she asked.

I grimaced at the pointed use of my first name.

“Okay, in terms of background no, but he grew up in Norway, and we were raised here. I’m American, really.”

“And Ragnar is a Norwegian living in America. Sounds like an opportunity for both of you.”

“I never really thought about it that way.”

“What are sisters for?”

That was another line she took from me. Things really had gone topsy-turvy. If only that were what was really concerning me.

I liked that Ragnar and I had a shared cultural history. I’d learned a bit on my own, but Norse-Americans were difficult to come by, particularly on the west coast.

“Then there’s the other thing,” Jonna promoted.

“Other thing?”

“Come on, sis. This is me, your screw-up of a baby sister who was nearly disowned twice. I know what it’s like to go against expectations. Ragnar is a metal head and looks it. You definitely don’t, except with special effort. I’m guessing you like his band?”

“Yes,” I confessed, my cheeks getting warm.

“Most people do. They have what most producers would call ‘cross-over appeal,’ like Metallica with the Black Album.”

“I thought it was the White Album.”

“That’s the Beatles. It’s a bit of an inside joke.”

“I wouldn’t have thought they would have fans in common.”

She shrugged.

“Music does that. And